


Destiel Runs Through My Veins

by Mystical_Cupcakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, aw yea, one shots, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystical_Cupcakes/pseuds/Mystical_Cupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is just a bunch of Destiel prompts. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Definitely Worth a Wasted Pie

Dean was in the bunker's kitchen preparing for, in his mind, the greatest prank yet. He chuckled lightly to himself, trying to hold it in as to not draw attention with the noise. As he plopped yet another spoonful of whipped cream onto the pie, he couldn't help but to have a mournful thought for wasting such a delicious dessert. But, he figured the outcome would be worth it. With an evil snicker, he picked up the pie delicately and held it poised in one hand. He walked out of the kitchen and searched for his victim. 

Sammy had apparently left the bunker to do some sort of research as one of the extra cars was gone, he dare not touch the impala. Dean sighed, seeing as he was looking forward to smacking him in the face with the pie, it surely would take weeks to get all that filling out of that idiotically long hair of his. God, Dean hated that. If he could have just a few minutes and a pair of scissors...

Dean was about to give up and just eat the pie in the study when he had a devious idea. Dean prayed to Castiel to come down as soon as possible. He waited, anxious and giddy about his plan. Cas popped into the bunker next to Dean.

"What's the matter?" Cas asked importantly. He had a look of concern on his face. "Oh, nothing big." Dean said with a twisted smile, struggling to keep a straight face. "I was just wondering if you wanted some pie..."

Castiel looking at the pie in confusion, apprehensively said, "No, you know I don't eat." Dean sprung forward and yelled out,"Sure you do!" He flung the pie at Cas' face and smeared it in just for good measure. 

He pulled back his arm and laughed. The pan fell from with a thunk on the ground after no longer being able to support itself with just the goop. 

Cas wiped off the cream from his eyes and asked in a stale voice, "What was that about? I don't get it. What's so funny?"

Dean was now laughing at the reaction so hard that he was clutching his sides. He was bent over in tears struggling to breathe, but finally was able to regain control of himself. "Whew." He saw that there was some cherry filling on Castiel's trenchcoat, "That's going to stain." He swiped it off with his finger and tasted it. Cas was staring intently at his lips when he did so. 

Dean noticed this reaction. The mood had changed. Dean, now looking directly into Cas' eyes, reached out and slowly slid his finger down his jawline and scooped up more whipped cream and popped his finger in his mouth. Castiel let out a strangled breath. 

Dean stepped cautiously forward, becoming intimately close to Castiel. He leaned carefully forward to his ear and paused, his breath brushing his earlobe. Dean slowly and deliberately slid his tongue down the same path his finger had taken before coming back up to look Cas in the eyes again, their faces mere inches apart. 

Cas stuttered in an unusually deep voice, "What-what are you doing?"

"Just cleaning  _my_ angel up a bit." Dean replied in a disheveled voice as well. He kissed Castiel roughly. Only breaking away for air and to clean up a bit more so he can have somewhere clean to place his hands. Dean slowed down some, Castiel seemed to be in shock and was breathing raggedly. Dean pulled away and tilted Cas' chin up, who responded to the touch immediately.

Dean ran his tongue up his neck in long strokes. The filling was good as gone, but for good measure Dean kissed Cas' neck all over. Below his ear, at the base of his neck, under his chin, at his jawline. Just to be  _extra_ certain, he sucked hard with kisses, leaving hickeys that will raise questions no doubt, to make sure no cream was left behind. 

Dean cupped his hands around Castiel's face and touched their foreheads together. "Definitely not a waste of pie." He kissed Castiel lightly on the lips. Cas replied in a breathless voice that seemed like he had found his true heaven, "Definitely."


	2. Dean's Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BorrowedGrace!Castiel had gotten himself into a literally sticky situation and had to go clean up. The problem is he didn't have spare clothes and with lanky legs like Sam's, who would be the next best option to borrow an outfit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by this gif http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdt14biedK1rs2daao1_500.gif

Dean dragged Castiel into the hotel room yelling at him. Sam was trailing behind, looking uncomfortably unhelpful and too large to help Dean carry the hurt man. He kept on trying to help Dean carry Cas to one of the itchy, old beds, but Dean took over the job so he ended up only closing the door and waiting at the desk for an explanation. 

"What the hell, Cas?!" Dean tried to shout at Castiel, but had to keep it down, so the other guests wouldn't become suspicious. It would be hard to explain if an attendant had came in and saw the scene. 

"I was only trying-" Castiel tried to explain breathing heavily as he heaved himself up into a sitting position at the head of the bed, leaning against the damaged headboard. 

Dean, sitting at the edge of the bed, was awfully close to Cas. Nearly hovering over him. Normally after a moment or two of this closeness, Dean would reprimand him about personal space, even if it was his own fault. But he was too worried about him to care.

"I don't care what you were  _trying_ to do! I care about-" Dean said in a harsh voice.  _I care about you,_ was what he was going to say, but cut off his sentence at the end realizing what he was about to say, but quickly picked up again, but with a softer tone."You are no longer a full angel, buddy. You can't do that. And your borrowed grace can only get you so far. Not without someone to help. That's why me and Sam work together.'"

He cut off once again. Dean looked over at Sam and backed away from Cas to sit at the foot of the bed rather than looming over Cas like he was. Sam gave Dean a look that told him that he was amused by how over-protective he was over Castiel.

Dean shook his head to get back on track. He looked down for a moment and sighed. He looked up at Cas, almost looking away as if in embarassment. He said, "You are going to need to change into something not covered in blood and dirt. We don't need you looking like a maniac."

Castiel shifted. He looked down at his clothes. They were caked with mud and blood was sticking his shirt to his skin. He had to conserve his powers as to not burn through it so fast, he still had work to do. He wished he had his own angel juice back to easily restore his clothes back to their normal condition, or at least have a second set of clothes with him. He wasn't used to the idea of being on the road.

But this was all that he had and after the demise of his beloved trench coat, he knew a run through the washing machine would not save his outfit.  He gave Dean a helpless, guilty look; his bright blue eyes looked innocent, a vast contrast given the state of his clothes.

“Oh, umm…” Dean hummed, stalling until he found a solution. He found none. He gave Sam a desperate look.  He shrugged and went to turn to his laptop, clearly Dean was handling it, he’ll figure out something. But he stopped and gave Dean a coy smile.

Bewildered,  Dean tried to make a motion for him to stop, but Sam wasn’t going to. He called for Cas’ attention. “Hey, Cas.” Castiel looked up hopeful and curious. “What, Sam?” he replied. Sam gave a devious grin to Dean before saying, “You know if you don’t have spare clothes, I’m sure Dean could let you borrow some of his."

Dean gave him a shocked look, but Cas was already nodding his head. “Yes, Dean. Could I borrow some?” He gave him a small smile.

Dean put his head down in defeat. For some reason he did not want this to happen and Sam knew it. Which is why he suggested it. Dean put his hand on the back of his neck. “Yeeeaaah,” he stretched the reply out. “Fine.” He solemnly got up to gather some clothes for him to borrow.

He waited Cas to get up. As he placed a hand on his shoulder to lead him to the bathroom, Dean gave Sam a dirty look while Cas wasn't looking. Sam gave him a smirk. He knew Dean would be weird about it. And that's exactly why he forced the issue.

\---

Dean sat down on the bed and opened a random magazine that was probably a decade old to pass the time. Sam stayed at his laptop the whole time and only adjusted to prop up his foot on the chair across from him. It was hard being that tall sitting at a table that small without stretching. 

After a rustle and a click of a door handle, the bathroom opened up and Cas stepped out. A rush of steam billowed at the ceiling as he had just taken a shower. He felt much better at this point. Cas' hair was in disarray and dripping with water. But that wasn't exactly what caught Dean's eye.

He had borrowed a pair of jeans that were dark and a bit too long for him as they curled under Cas' feet. He had on Dean's iconic black T-shirt layered with an olive green button up.

He was in the middle of pushing up his other sleeve when he noticed Dean staring at him. He cleared his throat a bit and squinted at Dean questioningly. 

Sam glanced over at Dean and Cas, but didn't think he got the reaction he was aiming for. In disappointment he went back to researching.

However, he was wrong. He turned to see that Dean's mouth was agape. It was comical how much of a reaction Cas wearing his outfit caused him, but what really made Sam nearly burst out laughing was Cas. 

"Dean..." Cas said in a gruff, confused voice. "Can... you control your thoughts?" Dean shifted in his seat, snapping him back into the moment. "Wha-what?" he said in a dazed voice. 

Sam, trying to stifle back a laugh, asked, "I thought you couldn't read minds?"

"I can sometimes, even if my grace is secondhand. If they ask me to read them, they are praying, or if my name is said too loudly. In this case it is the last two." Cas replied bluntly. Sam's eyes widened and he grinned.

Dean's head hung in shame and embarassment. He cleared his throat loudly. Sam, taking the cue, grabbed the keys for the impala and took off out the door sniggering to himself. 

Cas looked out after Sam for a bit before turning his gaze to Dean again. Dean averted his eyes and grabbed at the back of his neck nervously.

"Umm... Dean." Castiel said unsure of how to approach the situation. Dean looked up, but saw that Cas wasn't going to continue his thought and looked at the wall. 

Castiel shook his head for a moment and looked down. The clothes he was wearing smelled like Dean as if he was wrapped in his embrace. He had an idea. A risky idea. He glanced up at Dean and made his decision. 

He slowly strolled to the door. Dean's eyes were following him with curiousity. Cas locked the door with a brush of his hand. He gave Dean a sly smile. 

Dean sat up straighter on the bed in anticipation of his next move. Cas approached the bed and sat down close to Dean. He grabbed his left hand with his right and took his other hand and put it up to his face. 

Dean's pupils dilated as Cas ran his thumb over his stubble. Looking intently into each other's eyes, Cas said, "I have always felt this way about you, Dean. I-"

"I have- I have, too." Dean stuttered nervously. That was all Castiel needed to hear. 

Cas pressed his lips to Dean's roughly and without caution, pulling at him. Dean slid his hand into his hair, his other supported himself from falling over. Castiel overtook him and clambored to close the distance even further. 

Dean was following his lead, giving himself fully into the ecstasy of throwing his worries away and enveloping himself into the moment they were sharing. 

Castiel deepened the kiss and was forcefully pressing them into the soft cushion of the matress. Dean's arm gave out and Cas crawled on top of him, leaving the two entangled on the bed finally. 

Castiel trailed his kisses down from his lips to his jawline leading to his neck. Dean hummed softly and closed his eyes enjoying it. He turned his head as Cas worked on leaving him a mark that would need some explaining when Sam saw it. Though he wouldn't need to because he then opened his eyes slightly and glanced at the window. 

The curtains had been left open and there was Sam standing in the window holding the beer he went out to get while the awkward situation had passed. His mouth hung open in complete shock, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that said he was happy to see that it had finally happened. 

Dean gave him a stern look that made Sam leave almost immediately, but he was chuckling to himself the whole way back to the impala.

Dean pulled Cas up to him again and kissed him intensely.

 


	3. Petty Fueds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the AU where Dean owns a record shop and Cas owns a book shop right beside it, and they both hate each other for stupid petty reasons and they constantly trade insults.... (via tumblr user mishaandpie)

Castiel was cleaning up his book shop as usual. He was meticulously dusting off each shelf that lined the walls of the small bookstore that smelled of aged paper, coffee, and subtly of lavender and rosemary incense. 

He took great pride in his little shop. He made sure everyone felt at home. That they were at peace. 

The walls were painted green, but you couldn't tell at a glance because the bookshelves reached the ceilings. The floor were made of a light colored oak and were well worn with scratches carving out footpaths. 

After making sure each of the books were no longer coated in a fine dust, he sat down in one of the cozy lounge chairs arranged in front of the shop window to encourage others to come and read and engage with fellow book lovers.  He pulled up one of his favorite books and began to read, as business was rather slow today and he always wanted to read in such an enticing environment. 

He was very humble in his line of work, but you could tell care and passion went into that store and he enjoyed it for what it was. 

He was very content. Though he had one problem: the owner of the record shop.

Everything about Castiel's litle store was perfect, except the placement.

The whole street was filled with mom-and-pop shops left and right, all with very modest shop owners with cute stores filled with knick knacks and other innocent things. 

A few months ago, Castiel had raised enough money to start his shop that he been dreaming about. To finally be in a place that was calm and quiet, yet creative and unique, was ideal. He had come up with his plan to have a bookstore on the same avenue as this one years in advanced, a dream that seemed always too far away. But the day had finally come. 

Two shops were up for sale on the street, joined in the same building. And both coincidentally had been bought nearly at the exact same time. 

Small construction began as the two shops were repainted and signs were put up. Castiel was excited. He set to arranging the store as he liked and fell in love. It was wonderful.

He went to greet his new shop owner as soon as he noticed his shop too was up.  _A record store?_ Castiel thought to himself.  _Seems out of place here._

He knocked on the frame of the door as he stepped inside the open doorway of the new record shop. 

"Hello," Castiel said in a singsong voice. He was absolutely happy with how things were turning out and was in a great mood. 

A man was crouched by a display organizing his records. He was singing to himself a classic rock song, but Castiel could not pinpoint what song it was. 

Castiel had to clear his throat to finally get his attention. He apparently startled him because he got up and jumped away to face him in a frenzy. "Sorry, you freaked me out there." said the man. Castiel couldn't help but to notice how undeniably handsome he was. 

He was taller than Castiel and had a hard look, but he wasn't intimidating, at least not to him. He had bright green eyes and freckles strewn across his face that left Castiel in awe.

"Oh, sorry," Castiel said. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you. I just thought I'd say hello, I am the shop owner next door. My name is Castiel."

"Castiel. Odd name. My name's Dean." he replied with a smile. "So you own the new book store, Cas? Mind if I call you Cas?"

"Yeah I am, and no, I don't mind if you call me Cas." Castiel answered. An awkward pause passed as Castiel was a little dumbfounded by his looks.

"I have been dreaming about setting up a record store myself, show some people good taste in music." Dean stated.

"Yeah, I always had an interest in literature and the serenity of reading a book provides." Cas agreed.

"Well, I have to work on some more stuff to get this set up right, see you around?" Dean said.

Cas answered, "Yeah, yeah... Me too. Bye." He stumbled out of the doorway and into his shop. He sat down on a misplaced stool because the shop was not yet arranged as he had liked. He grinned to himself.  _Cas,_ he thought.  _He already gave me a nickname._  He blushed hard as he covered up his face.

Now a couple of months later, it has been almost unbearable to share the same shop space as Dean. Just as Cas had sat down to pick up reading his book, Dean started playing classic rock really loud.

It threw off the calming ambience of Cas' shop. The walls were thin, because the building is old and was restored to serve a purpose when the town became more touristic. 

He set his book down harshly at the counter and knocked loudly on the wall that they shared. "Keep it down! This is a place of solitude and reading!" Cas yelled over the music. 

Dean responded with singing the lyrics to the song louder, but eventually turning down the music.

As soon as he did, he appeared in the shop doorway with a satisfied grin on his face. Cas couldn't help to find it cute, but nonetheless he was driving away his customers and top of that getting on his nerves.

"What ever you want, angel, but remember I have customers too." Dean said with a wink flourishing the end of his comment and left as quickly as he came to finish whatever he was doing in his shop. 

Cas was red at the ears. Surely by now Dean would know what effect he had on him because it sure seemed like he was teasing him about it.  _  
_

Afterwards, Castiel went to burn some more incense and returned to his spot tucked in the corner of the shop and continued reading while he had the chance.

Dean was in his shop rearranging his records to display his favorites.  _Metallica and Black Sabbath should be up here.... as always, Led Zepplin proudly shown at the top... Kansas another favorite... I need more room..._ A running list of indecisive monologue ran through his head as he sat on the floor trying to pick out the best records that would show customers he knew his music.

The shop contrasted Castiel's in many ways. The walls were painted black and covered in instruments and posters of cars. The floor was made of a dark wood and it also had some major damage to it because of its long use. But Dean didn't care. He thought it added a rough characteristic that matched the overall feel of being in a record shop. It was nice, it was home. 

Music had always been the one constant in his life he could count on and to have a record shop was one of his biggest dreams. 

He got up and wiped the dirt of his pants and walked to the counter, but got sidetracked. He headed back outside to peek at Cas in his shop. 

He saw him fully engrossed into the novel he was reading, lounging cozily in his chair. Dean looked as his bright blue eyes lit up with every plot twist and his mouth would turn up at the sides when he would find something clever in the text. 

Dean had forgotten how long he stood there and was only awakened into reality when that putrid smell of incense hit him in the face. 

The smell made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't take another whiff of it or he would gag. 

He stepped just inside the bookstore and said, "Can you cut it out with the legal hippie smoke! Its sticking to my clothes and now my shop smells like it."

" _I_ find it soothing." Cas said, not moving an inch or even lifting up his gaze when Dean walked in.

" _I_  don't care. Now please put that out. Have mercy." Dean said. 

Cas put out the incense and covered up the smoke, but by that point he no longer felt like reading. Cas stepped outside to enjoy the fresh air and sat down at the outdoor table he had set outside the shop window for such occasions. 

But rather than watching the tourists walk by he always found himself glancing into Dean's shop window. And now he was rather distracted because Dean was bent over trying to fix the alphabetized order of his records that his customers kept pulling out and not returning to their proper places. Cas tried to refrain from watching, but really he couldn't help himself.

"Enjoying the view?" Dean looked up, catching Cas redhanded. He gave wide grin and winked at Castiel once again. 

Cas harrumphed and stalked off back into his shop with his face, ears, and neck all burning. Dean laughed at him and continued with his work.

Everyday was like this to some extent, and it went on for a couple of months. Until one day...

Dean, as usual, turned his music up to high. And that would have normally bothered Castiel, but he was playing a song that Cas loved. But would never admit to it because Dean would hound him if he liked the same music he complained about everyday.

"Stairway to Heaven" floated out of Dean's record shop and into Castiel's bookstore. Castiel started out humming delightfully along with the tune as he cleaned and before he could stop himself, he was singing the song.

Dean found it was odd that Cas hadn't yelled at him yet and poked his head into Cas' shop. He heard Castiel distractedly singing to himself and couldn't help but to grin. Cas' back was turned as he was dusting off his books yet again and had not yet seen Dean at the door. "So you like this song, huh?" Dean said with a smirk. He leaned against the door jamb smugly. 

Cas immediately stopped singing and Dean could see his ears turn red, before he turned to face him. "Out. Just out." Cas demanded. 

"Oh, come on, Cas." Dean said, "I didn't know you liked Led Zepplin. You could come over sometime and-"

 

Maybe Cas was just passive aggressive, but all of the sudden he got irrationally angry over a little song and an insignificant comment. Castiel turned around.

"How come you always do stuff like that?" Cas demanded.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. 

"You always flirt with me and catch me doing stuff to try to embarrass me!" Cas said. He was beyond frustrated.

"I don't try to embarrass you, I tease you, yeah. I just find you and whatever you do cute." Dean said, his face growing red as he admitted it. 

"Oh...  _shut up_." Cas retorted. He didn't believe how earnest that was. More accurately, he couldn't believe how earnest that was.

"Make me." Dean said with a smirk. He stepped closer to Castiel. and added a whisper of the nickname that sent him blushing, _"Cas."_

But instead of blushing and hiding, Castiel acted. He took a hasty step forward and placed one hand on Dean's chest and the other on Dean's cheek that slid up into his hair as he pushed him against the wall. 

He kissed intently, his hand tangling up in his hair while the other clung onto the spot between Dean's neck and shoulder.

Dean didn't hesitate and kissed him back just as roughly. He slid his hand to the small of Castiel's back pushing him closer to him. His other hand rested on Cas' chest. 

Cas bit Dean's bottom lip and Dean let out a groan. And finished it up with another kiss on his already swollen lips before they finally pulled away for air. 

Cas looked up Dean's shocked green eyes and saw how long his eyelashes were. He could see hidden freckles on his face that you couldn't get the chance to see without being that close.

Dean grinned wide as he looked back into Cas' bright blue eyes.  _Finally got him,_ they both thought at the same time.  


	4. They are Teachers But it Looks Like School Boy Crushes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teacher!Cas and GymTeacher!Dean ... Dean sees the new teacher and wants to say hi, but he's nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff is strong with this one. Like sooooo strong.
> 
> idk what is this "title" thing you speak of? (I tried.)

Dean stood in the hallway long after school had ended. Most teachers had packed up and left or were wrapping up their last minute announcements for the school clubs they ran. Dean didn't really have anything to do. He could have left by now. In fact he didn't even really need to be in that hallway. His office was in a whole other wing of the school. 

But he couldn't help it.

A new teacher had arrived at the school and was introduced to the faculty that morning. Dean never really paid attention to those meetings. He was only a gym teacher. Nothing really affected him seeing as all the history teachers took over the sports teams. Why it was like that, he didn't know. So it left him with a routine job of yelling at kids to run around the gym, stretch, and play dodgeball occassionally. Nothing more or less.

But he glanced up from his paper to see the new teacher- Mr. Collins. He was nerdy little guy. Well, not so little in height, but he had an innocent look to his face that seemed to shrink his demeanor. He was dressed in a dark blue sweater over a lighter blue buttonup. He had black glasses that seemed to hide how blue his eyes were. But they were unmistakenly a bright blue. Such a bright blue that Dean seemed to get lost in them and oh no- he was caught. The new teacher squinted at him and tucked his head down and sat back in his seat. 

Dean coughed and readjusted to get comfortable in his seat again to continue reading. But as soon as either one of them stopped looking at each other, their faces blushed a light pink. Subtle to people who didn't catch what happened, but they were completely embarrassed nonetheless.

Dean went to the school gym and looked over what his plan for his students would be for that day.  _Running? Jump rope?_ But he couldn't concentrate.  _Forget it, it's dodgeball day._

He announced to each class that they were to play dodgeball and he was greeted with loud cheering from the athletes and a few boos and grunts of exasperation from literally everyone else. He didn't care. He sat down out of the line of fire and blasted some classic rock to get the kids pumped for the next hour. 

As soon as the school day finished, he took a lap around the school. He found Mr. Collins' classroom and glanced through the window on the door and saw him sitting at his desk rifling through the papers in front of him . His sleeves were pushed up revealing his strong, tanned forearms and his dark hair was disarranged into a mess- and that's when Dean decided he should keep going. He got back to his office.

He could leave now. He was all packed up. He had no parents waiting to yell at him for pushing their kid too far. It wasn't like he had paperwork he needed to do. But he didn' leavet. 

He looked at the clock. it was only about 45 minutes since school let out. _He could still be there..._

Dean took yet another lap around the school. But he stopped at Mr. Collins' door again. He stood there. He hesitantly stepped closer to the door and knocked.

"Come in," Mr. Collins called out. Dean opened the door and stepped inside. He slid his clammy hands down the front of his ridiculously red shorts that he now felt embarassed for wearing. 

"Hey..." Dean didn't know what to say. Mr. Collins' looked up, his eyes freezing him into speechlessness. "...I just wanted to say, 'Welcome to... uh... here...?" 

 _Nailed it._ "Thank you." he responded with a sweet smile. "Dean, was it? I'm Castiel."

"Castiel?" Dean said, thankful that he didn't take notice of how flustered he was. 

"Umm yeah..." Castiel said reaching his hand behind his head and gave a reluctant smile that made his nose crinkle in a mesmerizing way. "My dad was a little creative with naming me. Its..."

"I like it." Dean complimented. Giving him a smile, which Castiel returned, and he quickly ducked his head.

"Thanks." Castiel responded, ducking his head too. 

"So, Cas. How's your first day on the job?" Dean asked, making conversation.

Castiel smiled softly at the new nickname, this time allowing the slight blush reach his cheeks without looking away. "No problems. The students were fine. Coming in late is a bit of a pain because I don't know where the students are in the book, given the last teacher jumped around a lot."

"Good because if the students were a problem for you, I could make sure they take a few laps around the gym." Dean said. They laughed. There was a pause.

Dean cleared his throat. "You wanna get some  coffee or something later?"

Cas winked and said, "That'd be great." 

Dean's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He laughed at his nervousness and said he had to go. He bumped into the desk on his way out knocking over a stack of papers, which he promptly picked up before booking it out of the hallway. 

Cas grinned, flushing a deep red when he heard a faint "Yes!" from Dean in the hallway. He had to hide his face in his hands before he could calm down. 


	5. Whoops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "accidentally fell in your lap while standing on this crowded bus" au (http://textsfromtitanfood.tumblr.com/post/96672784247/consider-the-following-aus-we-wore-matching)
> 
> pretty much sums up what happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have I mentioned that titles are hard?

Dean slipped through the mass of people standing in the aisle of the bus. Finding empty standing room proved to be nearly impossible, but he was able to cram himself in between an old lady and some stiff in a monkey suit.

He had nearly missed the bus, seeing as it wasn't a part of his daily schedule to catch it at this time. In fact, he usually drove his impala everywhere, but he lent it to his younger brother for the day. He must trust him a lot because that car was his baby. 

But he needed it and that face Sammy gave him... man, it was hard to say no. Somehow the grown man could contort his face to look exactly like when he was six and wanted Dean to share his candy or something. And Dean knew he was falling for it each time, but it didn't stop him from saying yes to whatever he wanted. It was out of habit. 

Sam was supposed to pick him up thirty minutes ago or so, but he texted Dean saying he couldn't make it for a few more hours at the least. So Dean, fed up and frustrated, looked up the bus route and times and decided to make his way home through good, old-fashioned public transportation. 

He headed to the nearest bus stop and waited. And waited. And waited. He waited so long, he thought he misread the bus schedule and decided to head back into to the campus library. He was about halfway down the sidewalk when he heard the familar screech of brakes and huff of doors opening. 

He raced back to the bus to be greeted with it packed full of people.  _Awesome._  Making his way to the nearest open spot, he surveyed all the characters on the bus that he passed. 

No one really stuck out to him. He had to rush because otherwise the passengers would get upset and impatient. However, he did notice a handsome guy sitting awkwardly in a seat facing the aisle to the left. He had dark, messy hair and stubble to match. His tan trenchcoat was tucked in at his sides, so he wouldn't be invading the space of either of the people sitting next to him. He had a dark blue tie that hung loosely around his neck, accessorizing his disgruntled, black suit. 

Dean then bumped into a man who gave him a bit-too-harsh, but slight shove in response, effectively refocusing his attention to finding a place to park it. 

He found a cramped, but feasible space by a pole that actually stood just a bit farther back from the pretty, trenchcoat man, so that was a bonus. 

He shined a smile toward the guy who smiled back in response, only to hide his face away immediately. Dean noticed a light blush reached his cheeks and he smirked with pride knowing he made him flustered. He stood there for a moment waiting for the stragglers to finish boarding the already-full bus. 

For such an annoying day, this wasn't too bad. Until, of course, his bag broke. 

The backpack he was wearing tore enough at the bottom that his papers and pens came spilling out. It wasn't a lot, he could pick it up himself. But it was enough of an inconvenience to irritate him. 

He knelt down to swipe up everything that had dropped. None of the pens had traveled too far, so he was able to gather it all up swiftly. He stood up halfway, in an uncomfortable half-squat postion, to quickly organize the papers on his knee when the bus started.

It lurched forward. Dean's hands were preoccupied with what used to be the contents of his bag that he couldn't catch himself on the pole and was knocked off balance.

He flopped onto the lap of the pretty, trenchcoat guy. 

His heart was pounding hard and he didn't know how to handle the situation at all. His ears turned red from embarrassment.

After what seemed like an eternity, the shy, awkward trenchcoat guy surprisingly deadpanned, "I would have liked to have known your name and bought you dinner before you ended up on my lap."

Dean was speechless. His heart was racing, but the comment grounded him enough to respond with a wink, but not enough to recover his voice. He sat there trying to regain control of the situation his was literally thrown in- wait, sat. He was still sitting in his lap.  _Oh, no._  

He hurriedly stumbled off his lap and went back to standing in his previous spot. A slight pink covering him from his neck to his cheeks, reaching his ears. 

He tried to play it off as if nothing happened, but he kept finding himself glancing at the guy over and over again. Each time he was nearly caught, he would quickly avert his eyes and blush. But the last time he looked, he made eye contact with him and the trenchcoat guy winked at him. Which sent him into a deep red blush and he cast his eyes downward for the rest of the bus ride.

Eventually, it was the trenchcoat guy's stop and he got up to leave. But before he left, he grabbed Dean's sleeve and pulled him in close to whisper something to him. Dean held his breath, his heart fluttering in anticipation and surprise. He said in a deep voice, "My name is Castiel, by the way." 

Dean choked out his name in response, in complete shock that he knew what say back. He felt Castiel let go of his sleeve and run his hand down Dean's arm until he reached his hand. Dean felt a piece of crumpled paper being pushed into his grip. 

Castiel let go with a wink and strode off the bus. 

Dean, with his freckled face a bright pink, read the paper. In rushed penmanship, it said, "We should do that again sometime." On the paper, followed by that note, Castiel wrote his name and number.


End file.
